Chapter 45: You Look a Bit Angry
Actually, Cheng Ge’s mind was somewhat blank at this moment—partly from being startled, and the remaining parts were uncontrollably zoning out.
It wasn’t until the tip of Wen Ling’s tongue touched his own that Cheng Ge pushed Wen Ling away as if waking from a long dream, retreating in panic.
If not for the railing behind him, he would definitely have fallen over.
Cheng Ge’s heart beat ridiculously fast, and his brain was as messy as paste. Was Wen Ling… French… kissing… just now?
???
He didn’t know how to do it, so how did Wen Ling know!? He couldn’t have mastered it without a teacher, right!?
Wait, wait, why didn’t he push Wen Ling away immediately but zoned out instead!?
No, who allowed the little lunatic to kiss him like this!?
“What are you doing!?” Cheng Ge stared at Wen Ling in disbelief.
“There’s no one here,” Wen Ling explained, recalling Cheng Ge pushing him away just now, his tone carrying a hint of complaint.
“No, who let you kiss me!?”
“I wanted to kiss.” Really wanted to.
It seemed that having less time to see each other than before required such intimate interactions to compensate, so his heart could be balanced.
Since Cheng Ge didn’t initiate kissing him, he could only take the initiative. Wen Ling just wanted to be a bit closer to Cheng Ge, just a bit closer.
And kissing was very comfortable, like a kitten scratching his heart.
“You don’t like it?” Wen Ling leaned closer to Cheng Ge, frowning and tilting his head to ask. If Cheng Ge didn’t like it, then he was also distressed; what kind of method should he change to?
The scent on Wen Ling’s body suddenly became intense, sweeping over Cheng Ge. Cheng Ge had nowhere to retreat and couldn’t hear clearly what Wen Ling was saying as his mouth opened and closed. He could only find fault with the little lunatic: “Just now… you, why did you stick your tongue out!”
“Did I?” Wen Ling didn’t remember how he kissed. He only remembered Cheng Ge’s lips were soft, and the light mint scent on Cheng Ge. He only knew he was excited, and every bit closer he got to Cheng Ge produced a pleasure that broke through reason.
“Do you still want to quibble!?” Cheng Ge stood up, preparing to go down the mountain, with a posture of “not staying with someone who loves to quibble.”
“Then I did,” Wen Ling followed. “Is it not allowed?”
Cheng Ge didn’t stop walking. “Not allowed!”
“Why?” Although he didn’t remember if he stuck his tongue out, he liked the kiss just now. Why did Cheng Ge say not allowed? And Cheng Ge bit his lip too.
Unfortunately, Cheng Ge didn’t tell him why, only saying, “Not allowed means not allowed.”
The two walked one after another, one fleeing in defeat, one chasing behind.
“You look a bit angry.” Wen Ling bit off the last hawthorn. His slow brain finally caught up with Cheng Ge’s fluctuating emotions, yet he still didn’t understand Cheng Ge’s mind full of complexities. “Why are you angry?”
“I’m not, you’re the one angry.” Cheng Ge felt Wen Ling was just dopey, understanding nothing—didn’t understand what being angry was, didn’t understand the meaning of a kiss.
He wasn’t angry; he was just annoyed.
Wen Ling was really annoying him to death.
“Alright, but you’re walking too fast. I’m a bit tired. Can you walk a bit slower?”
“Who told you not to exercise usually.” Cheng Ge said grumpily.
Later, maybe Wen Ling walked faster or Cheng Ge walked slower—it wasn’t clear—but in short, the distance between the two closed.
But unknown whether Cheng Ge tripped over Wen Ling’s leg or Wen Ling stepped on Cheng Ge’s foot, both stumbled and fell together.
They only rolled down three or four steps before reaching a platform. Neither was injured.
It was just that their posture was a bit strange. Cheng Ge protected Wen Ling’s upper body in his arms, while Wen Ling stretched out his hand to protect the back of Cheng Ge’s head.
Cheng Ge sat up, ignoring everything else, his first reaction was to check if the person was okay. “Did you get hurt?”
“No.” Apart from some scrapes on the back of his hand, Wen Ling felt no pain at all. But he had felt Cheng Ge bump into something just now. “Do you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” Cheng Ge felt he was thick-skinned; rolling down a few steps was nothing.
Knowing Wen Ling was fine, that strange emotion welled up in Cheng Ge’s heart again, stronger and more contradictory than before.
Cheng Ge stood up, muttering blame: “All your fault, staying so close.” Seriously, he didn’t owe him money, so why stay so close!?
The content was blame, but his tone didn’t carry much reproach or complaint; instead, panic and lingering fear were dominant.
Being so obtuse, Wen Ling couldn’t hear that Cheng Ge was scolding him. Instead, he felt Cheng Ge speaking like that was a bit cute.
The word “bristling” (fried hair) suddenly occupied Wen Ling’s brain. The previously uncomprehended description suddenly materialized. He felt a novel pleasure.
Under the dim light, Wen Ling’s eyes opened very round. Cheng Ge watched as the round shape gradually turned into a semicircle, then heard Wen Ling ask very seriously: “Are you bristling?”
Cheng Ge: “!!!???”
Cheng Ge was numb. He really found it strange—what exactly was in Wen Ling’s brain all day? And who created the little lunatic’s language system? Why did Wen Ling’s words always make his mind blank for an instant, or make his whole body tingle as if an electric current flowed through?
“You have brain problems.” Cheng Ge dropped this sentence and walked away again, aggressive but not daring to walk as fast as just now.
Wen Ling picked up the stick on the steps, continued to follow, and pondered the connection between “bristling” and “having brain problems,” completely ignoring Cheng Ge’s “You.”
In the end, he couldn’t figure it out, so he stopped thinking about it.
Although Wen Ling liked Cheng Ge very much, he felt sometimes Cheng Ge was indeed a bit strange and hard to understand.
At the same time, Cheng Ge also felt Wen Ling was strange, simply acting crazy. He himself was acting crazy too, like he took the wrong medicine. He still had goosebumps now, and the cool night breeze couldn’t wash away the heat on his body.
Too baffling.
Weird, too weird.
Arriving at the foot of the hill, pedestrians gradually became visible. Cheng Ge stopped, took a few deep breaths, trying his best to forget the scene in the pavilion just now.
Wen Ling didn’t know what Cheng Ge meant by suddenly stopping and breathing deeply, so he imitated him. As a result, the hot breath from his nose hit Cheng Ge’s neck and behind his ear, instantly making the person bristle all over again.
Cheng Ge broke down, covering his face and squatting on the ground. “I give up.”
Ancestor, truly a freaking ancestor.
“What’s wrong with you?” Wen Ling squatted down too, looking very concerned.
“Don’t mind me…” Cheng Ge was helpless. Wen Ling was the dumbest, and also the hardest person to deal with that he had ever met.
“Does your stomach hurt?”
“My head hurts.” Cheng Ge’s brain was really about to stop functioning.
Wen Ling moved in front of Cheng Ge. Out of the consciousness of reciprocating Cheng Ge’s neck massage, he reached out wanting to rub Cheng Ge’s temples. He moved just a bit before being abruptly held down by Cheng Ge. Cheng Ge raised his eyes, and their gazes crossed.
But Cheng Ge couldn’t spit out half a sentence for a long time.
The conversation could only be started by Wen Ling. “Do you have a fever? Your face is so hot, but why are your hands so cold?”
Cheng Ge knew Wen Ling was telling the truth. The touch on Cheng Ge’s temples was cold, but the touch under the hand was warm.
“I’m sick.” Cheng Ge released Wen Ling’s hand, stood up, and muttered to himself.
“I have medicine.” Wen Ling stood up too, very active.
Cheng Ge: “…”
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